


Beneath the bushes, beneath the vines

by Marion



Series: The Mayan Chronicles [2]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universes, Angst, Drama, M/M, Series, other pairing - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:43:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marion/pseuds/Marion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A year on from the terrible storm that devastated their city, the Maya priest, Mahoute, and his Toltec  Guardian face a new and deadly challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath the bushes, beneath the vines

## Beneath the bushes, beneath the vines

#### by Marion

  
  
For Beate who requested a sequel and who patiently waited until I got this tale just right.  
My thanks also go to Sheila and Lisa for their help.Any mistakes now are strictly my own.  
As always, feedback is very welcome.  
Huipils are tunics with patterns woven on the neck and body.  
Blood letting was the central religious rite of Maya life. Blood was the seat of 'k'ul'- the divine - the k'ulel or pervasive divine force. K'ul ahaw is translated as 'holy or divine lord'  
Scribes had to go through a series of tests and riddles in the Language of Zuyua, a kind of examination in esoteric knowledge and literacy to identify those who were fit to serve as men of knowledge.  
y-itah is understood to mean 'his companion' as in his brother-in-arms, though in this case, it means something more.  
The Kanul, according to a source book (The Lost Chronicles of the Maya Kings, by David Drew) means Guardians and were similar to the Roman Emperor's Praetorian Guards.  
Maize kernels were ground up with a rocker and grinding stone, and the flour worked into a dough. These were parceled up in leaves and steamed to form small cakes called tamale. Atole was a gruel of varying consistency often sweetened with honey.  
Yitzhak octliî or pulque is made from the maguey (agave) plant. The Maya used it as a ritual enema. One name for it is Mayan Madness.  
Kukulkan's prayer comes from a mixture of different Mesoamerican sources, being part Aztec, Inca and Maya, and a bit of my own artistic license.  
  
This story is a sequel to: http://The Coyote's Sacrifice

* * *

Mahoute pelted through the jungle, shoving out of the way the branches that clawed at his clothes and skin. A furious rhythm beat in his ears. His skin was clammy. His hair was mattered against his skull. He felt light-headed. Sweat blurred his vision. His clothes stuck to his body... yet he couldn't stop running. 

He could still hear that butcher's maniacal laughter vibrating through the trees, surrounding him. It had been that sound that released his terror and had him racing headfirst into the jungle, not caring where he ran; just knowing that he had to get away from that vile noise. 

His mind screamed `flee; run, fast, faster, faster' and he could only obey. So he tore blindly on -- only stopping when he collided with a solid object. He tried, in his panic, to move it aside or to get around it, but it took a hold of him and wouldn't let go. His fear rose higher and his heart leapt in his chest. 

"Steady. Steady, Priest! Mahoute! It's me, Heumac, stop! What is it? What's wrong?" 

The words finally registered and he looked into the face of his lover, a face that swam before his eyes. 

"Heumac?" He grabbed Heumac's arms to steady himself, and held tight, leaving bruises. "Heumac, I saw him! He was there! He's alive! He spoke to me!" 

"Who, Mahoute? Who's alive? You're not making any sense here, Priest." 

Heumac's voice carried his fear and concern and forced Mahoute's hysteria away. He took a shuddering deep breath and tried to stop shaking. "Nasca. He was here in the jungle. He spoke to me." 

"Not possible, Priest. He's dead, remember?" Heumac said calmly. He ran his hands over Mahoute's goose-fleshed arms in a warming soothing caress. 

"No," Mahoute's hair flew across his face as he shook his head in denial. "He's alive... or I saw his ghost." 

Heumac cast his senses over his companion. Mahoute was indeed frightened, terrified, in fact. Whatever he thought he'd seen, it had scared his lover half to death. And Mahoute was sweating, but his skin was cold. "All right. Let's get to the city and we can sort everything out." Heumac pulled Mahoute into a loose hug. "We'll get you safe and warm and take this one step at a time." 

Nasca had been Ah Kin Mai, `the Highest One of the Sun', or high priest of the god, Tonatinh. He was a ruthless man, deadly and ambitious, wanting to enforce the rites of human sacrifice even as the king, Kukulkan, sought to do away with them. But he'd died in a fall down the steps of the temple during the terrible storm that drove Mahoute's people from their city. It wasn't possible for Mahoute to have seen him alive here in the jungle. They'd seen the high priest die, though whether his death was due to the fall or the obsidian knife that was embedded in his chest, no one could say and the owner of the knife, Tupec, Mahoute's blind old friend and mentor, died along side the high priest. 

"We must tell our king." Mahoute insisted, pushing away from Heumac. "I'll be fine once I've told him and the priests what I saw." 

"Fine, but let's get back to the city first." Heumac reluctantly released Mahoute. 

Mahoute started to walk, but then stumbled. Without thinking, Heumac put his arm around Mahoute and made to carry him, but the priest would have none of it. 

"I can walk, Heumac. I have two legs, I can walk," he said, indignantly. 

"By Itzaman', you are stubborn! Please Mahoute, let me help." Heumac put his arm around his friend's waist and breathed a sigh of relief when Mahoute accepted that help. 

Heumac knew the priest had been running himself ragged caring for the sick in the ruins of their old city. The outbreak of fever was not unexpected. There were those who couldn't or wouldn't stay in the strange and alien jungle and had chosen to return to the remains of their homes, despite all the warnings of bad water and ruined food due to the flooding. Fever had broken out twice since then to Heumac's knowledge, but this last one had been the worse and the squatters had sent to the new city for help. However, this last time, the fever also invaded that city too and Mahoute had run out of the herbs he'd used for healing and had had to search for more, going deeper into the jungle, taking his Guardian along to find their way in the tangled vines and keep an eye out for any dangerous wild life. 

Heumac tried to keep Mahoute in sight, but the priest had told him to harvest one clump of plants while he went searching for others, and Heumac had been so busy making sure to pick the right plants that he'd not paid attention to where Mahoute had wandered. Mahoute swore he could hear the plants, that they had their own heartbeat and he was drawn to them. 

Now Heumac cursed himself for not having noticed the signs of fever in his lover. He pulled him closer still. 

As they approached the recently established city, people began to gather to watch and wonder what was wrong with their priest of Tonatinh. They didn't get too close. Heumac's look was enough to make them keep their distance. All the same, they shadowed Guardian and Guide along the road. By now, Heumac was, to all intents and purposes, carrying Mahoute. 

Someone ran to alert Mahoute's mother, Chimalma, the priestess of the Moon Serpent, and Heumac tried to guide his friend towards her house, but Mahoute would have none of it. He shook off Heumac's hold and tried to walk on his own. Heumac was sure the priest would crawl if he had to, he was so determined to see the king. The warrior had no choice but to help him up the steps to Kukulkan's palace. 

Heumac, as Chief Guardian of the Priest-king, was allowed access to Kukulkan at all times. If the king went out in his litter amongst his people, Heumac would be at his back, watching, listening, senses on alert for any attack. If the king held an audience with his nobles, Heumac would be there, a visible deterrent to any threat against the king. But he was also Mahoute's lover and protector, two roles that in Heumac's mind took precedence over his adopted king and his people. If Mahoute felt it was so important that he see the king, then Heumac would get him to Kukulkan. He knew the king would have been told of their approach. 

The king sat tense and alert on his stone throne, made comfortable by cushions well stuffed with the fiber of the Ceiba plant. He wore his new regalia, the best that the craftsmen could create. His headdress was surmounted by the long-nosed face of the sun god. His earrings were jaguar canines set around a large piece of green jade, a collar of gold and jade sat around his throat, his bare chest was painted, an embroidered hip-cloth covered his lower body, with a belt from which dangled emerald bifurcated feathers from the quetzal bird. That, and pieces of jewelry and ornaments, they'd managed to salvage from the ruins of the old city. Around him, on cushions dotted about the floor sat his council of nobles, their expressions carefully schooled. 

Heumac helped Mahoute to sit, cross-legged on the floor, in front of the king, and then stepped a short distance away, ready to catch Mahoute if he should collapse. 

"My lords," Mahoute began, hesitantly, to address the king and his council, "I saw a vision, a ghost in the jungle; it... he told me to prepare for suffering...." 

* * *

Mahoute tried to concentrate on the questions being asked him, but it was hard; his mind seemed to be honey-coated and his tongue swollen. He had to convince them of what he'd seen. It was extremely important that they understand and accept what he told them... though he couldn't remember exactly why... and then the earth moved and his head was too heavy, his stomach felt as if it was rolling around in a canoe and nothing made any sense any more; not the words being spoken to him, not the faces looking at him, and something vile came up in his throat that made him roll over and throw up. 

* * *

He woke to a soothing and gentle sound. Unfortunately it was disturbing his sleep and he was having such a nice slumber. A hand, warm and tender, stoked over his cheek and he nuzzled into it. The touch somehow made the noise make sense. 

"That's it, Priest. Open those blue eyes of yours. Come on, Mahoute. Wake up." 

The last he took as an order and Mahoute licked his lips. His world seemed to shift again as someone lifted him up and supported his body. A cup was held to his mouth. He took a sip. It tasted very cool and very good. He lifted heavy limbs to try and grab the cup. 

"Oh no, you don't. Not until I know you won't bring it back up all over me." 

"Thirsty." Mahoute knew the word was slurred, but the person assisting him understood and the cup was returned to his lips. 

"Little sips, then." 

He drank carefully, recognizing the wisdom of drinking slowly. Once he'd drunk enough for the moment, he tried to open his eyes. His lashes were coated with sleep, but he could make out the vague shape of his lover. "Fever?" he asked, his voice hoarse and rough. 

"Yes," Heumac answered, shortly. 

Mahoute sighed. "How long?" 

"How long have you been out of it?" 

Mahoute nodded minutely, too aware of his throbbing headache. 

"A few days. You had me worried there, Priest. I thought I would have to break another guide in." 

"You just try it!" Mahoute's words lacked impact due to his weakened state. 

"Don't worry, Sweetie. He's just teasing. He's been sitting by your side all the time you've been out of it. I couldn't get him to go and rest." 

Mahoute strained his neck to see his mother hovering near by. He looked back at Heumac. 

"Shouldn't tease an ill man," he scolded. 

"Then you'd better hurry and get well again so I can tease you with impunity." Despite his words, Heumac's voice was soft. 

Mahoute squinted so he could get a better look at his lover. "You do look terrible," he said, noticing the shadows under his friend's eyes. 

Heumac laughed. "Thanks!" 

Mahoute was too concerned about his lover to bother with Heumac's amusement. "Without rest, you could have caught the fever yourself and you know what a difficult patient you are." The strain of talking was too much and he was caught up with a coughing bout. Heumac supported him as his body shook. 

Mahoute leaned back against Heumac's body as his lover raised the cup to his mouth again. "How are the rest?" he asked, once he was able to talk. 

Heumac tenderly stroked his friend's hair back from his sweaty face. "It looks like the fever has burned itself out. We lost one more. You were the last to be incapacitated with it this time around, and you might have escaped the illness if you hadn't worked yourself into the ground!" 

"Who?" Mahoute felt drained. Another death was one too many. 

Heumac's face was solemn as he spoke. "Kalomte." 

Mahoute sighed again, dejectedly. "She was a stubborn old woman. If she'd only moved back into the jungle with us instead of insisting that she return to the city...." 

"The elderly do not find change easy, sweetie," his mother said, softly, "and the fever came here too. Now, you should rest and get your strength back." 

"I feel like I've been sleeping for too long as it is." Mahoute heard himself whine. He had to admit, sleep did sound attractive. He suddenly realized he'd closed his eyes and snapped them back open, pinning his lover with his look. "Heumac, you should go rest too. Then I won't stay awake worrying over you." 

"Yes, mother," Heumac said with relieved amusement. 

But his words floated away in the clouds of sleep taking Mahoute with them. 

* * *

No matter how much things change, they remain the same, Heumac thought as he watched Mahoute perform the daily ritual that heralded the rise of the sun. His lover still looked frail to Heumac's eyes, but at least he was well enough to take the service on the raised platform in front of their people. He flashed Heumac a quick blinding smile that had the warrior grinning in return. 

Heumac sobered as he remembered Mahoute lying stinking of fever. It had been a close thing. There had been times when he believed Chimalma, her prayers and herbs, would fail and he would lose his precious lover. The thought left him feeling hollow, yet filled him with a sharp physical pain in the pit of his stomach, not to mention the pain in his heart. 

There were three ways of being sure of making it to paradise; to die in childbirth -- something Heumac had no need to worry about -- to die in battle, or to commit suicide. There had only been one time before when Heumac had nearly knelt before Ixtab, goddess of suicides, but if something took Mahoute from him, Heumac would be getting intimate with the goddess very soon thereafter. 

His face flushing at such thoughts, Heumac turned his mind to other things. Mahoute had said nothing more of his vision in the jungle. Heumac wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad one. The fever may have opened the way to the spirit world but, likewise, it could have just given Mahoute a distorted image of what was real. In which case the vision meant nothing and, until something happened, they couldn't be sure which it was. It was an unnerving feeling, not knowing. 

Giving himself a mental shake from the fear of the unknown, Heumac glanced around. He had to admit with some pride that he and Mahoute had picked a good spot for their new city named Tulum. On two sides, the cliff fell straight down into the sea. There was a bay on another side, offering an alternative trade and escape route, should they need it, while the frontage of the city led down to a new flattened road carved out of the jungle. Soon it would be laid with the white cobbled stone. The sea provided food which they'd desperately needed until they found uncontaminated seed for maize, beans, squash and peppers. They'd placed a sacrifice, a red macaw, sprinkled with drops of blood from Kukulkan's penis -- a precious offering -- to Kan-u-Uayeyab, the god who guarded cities, at the front of the site, along with the pitiful mummified remains of two innocents who died from the first fever. One the child of a noble, the other the child of a peasant, they now sat buried, guarding the new city, on either side of the gate way; their role in death as precious as their short lives. 

Heumac's thoughts refocused to study the crowd. He couldn't help but notice how much the audience had changed in the past year from the large teeming group of survivors who'd made it out of the devastated city. 

Apart from those who'd given up and returned to the city, there were others, mainly aristocrats and their entourage, who had rejected Kukulkan's leadership and had taken to the roads in their own makeshift litters with whatever belongings they'd been able to salvage, hoping to be accepted in the nearest city. Several of the older priests had gone with them, feeling unable to worship their gods without stone temples and stelae. 

Runners had returned days later, telling how the storm and flooding had decimated other cities too. Some nobles returned, grumpy and frustrated, finally willing to accept Kukulkan as ruler. Others had never returned. 

On the other hand, refugees had found their way into the new city from ruined outlying farms and gradually, as the shock wore off, they had set up their own satellite villages in order to clear and farm more land. These folk would return to the main community once a week at least, to barter in the markets, exchange news or to offer thanks for their survival. 

Most of Heumac's own Toltec warriors had slipped away in the confusion of trying to survive. Heumac couldn't really blame them. What creature, human or animal wouldn't take the chance of being free rather than a captive, even though the jungle was cruel and unforgiving? They'd asked Heumac to go with them, but he'd pledged himself to Mahoute and his people. He was tied by something too powerful to break free and he didn't want to go anywhere else. It was where he belonged, he could do nothing else. The two men who stayed with him were now part of the Kanul, the elite group of warriors who guarded Kukulkan. 

Still ruminating, Heumac's thoughts strayed to his family. The king, Yich'ak K'ak, Heumac's father, was a prideful man. Heumac remembered the arguments with him well. 

"It is unnatural for the son of the king to have such... senses." Yich'ak had said the word with disgust. 

"How can it be unnatural? There have been others like me who help their people." 

"Slaves and servants, tools for us to make use of. Not nobility, not the son and heir of a divine lord!" 

"Surely, father," Heumac tried to be reasonable, "kings should be servants to their people. We have power to look after their welfare. I have this gift to enable me to notice when the weather will be bad, when the harvest should be taken in, where the better game is. This is a good thing, isn't it?" 

"You are just like your grandfather and look where his `peaceful service' got us! In servitude to the Maya!" Yich'ak angrily replied. 

"At least we are alive," Heumac mumbled quietly. 

Not quietly enough, as Yich'ak back-handed him across the face. Heumac recoiled in shock rather than pain. 

"You want to be a servant? Well, so be it. From now on, you are my bodyguard and your brother is raised above you!" 

Within a short day, his rooms, his servants, his position at the court, were all given to his younger brother, Itzam Balam, and Heumac was made to sleep outside Yich'ak K'ak's bedchamber like a guard dog. 

Funnily enough, Heumac didn't miss the grandeur. He did, however, miss his brother who now shunned him, so Heumac devoted himself to being the best possible Guardian his father could have. That role became more and more impossible as his father became more and more determined to go to war. 

With the Aztecs encroaching into Toltec territory on one flank and the Maya demanding tribute on the other, Yich'ak K'ak chose to attack the Maya. They'd all, Toltec and Maya alike, experienced hot dry summers -- burning man and crops -- and wet winters when the water would flood the canals and put the city states in danger. But Mahoute's people lived in a valley where the flooding had been worse. They'd demanded food and cloth as tributes. 

The Toltec king decided this fact proved how weak the Maya really were and if his Toltec gained a foothold on their land, then they could move south east, away from the Aztec threat. 

The war had been a disaster. The Maya hadn't been as vulnerable as the king thought. However, Yich'ak K'ak's own people were weakened and demoralized by the constant fighting with the Aztecs. 

The final battle with the Maya was the worst. Heumac was involved in hand-to-hand combat, protecting his king. He'd killed one opponent and turned in time to see his younger brother killed. Heumac watched as the blood spurted out from his brother's throat, his vision turning as red as a macaw wing and the sounds of the battlefield faded away so that all he could hear was the slowing of Itzam's heart. 

The Guardian lost time -- too much time -- as his father, the man Heumac was supposed to be protecting, was surrounded by Maya warriors. 

Heumac's senses returned and he tried to get to Yich'ak, but before he could, his father lifted his knife and slit his own throat, all the while with his eyes locked on Heumac in contempt. Heumac was left to do the same, but as he started to raise his own knife he heard a coyote howl. He hesitated and that was all the time the Maya needed to subdue him. His men had been disarmed, their small round shields broken, their quilted body armor stripped from them, and they were taken, bound, to the Mayan city. 

If the priest he'd been given to hadn't had the coyote as his totem, if Mahoute hadn't dreamt about his coyote running with Heumac's jaguar, if he hadn't fallen for the young priest, if the deluge hadn't come when it did... if, if, if. Too many ifs, Mahoute would say, think of how lucky we are, not of what ifs! 

Heumac had to admit, his adopted people had done well this past year. Earth platforms had been constructed for the Temple of the Sun, placed to the north and the most defensible part of the site; the palace of Kukulkan was raised near by. It was nowhere as grand as his old one, but it too stood on a raised platform and the posts that supported the roof were carved with his name and titles. Kukulkan had earned them this past year. Fighting for his right to rule, organizing the tree clearance, supervising the construction of raised fields for food, and pacifying the aristocracy.... 

Heumac's attention returned to the platform where Mahoute was reaching the climax of his ritual. He threw something onto the fire, picked up a cage and released the butterflies, just as colored smoke erupted from the fire. Some of the butterflies perished, disappearing in puffs of dust, but Heumac could see through the smoke and watched as pairs of brightly colored wings took to the sky. 

He blinked long moments later, aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. His gut turned over as he realized it signaled the approach of another Guardian. He'd only ever met one other and it had not been a good experience. 

It was all Heumac could do not to growl out loud. It would be a while yet before the ceremony was finished and he could get to Mahoute, though his instinct yelled at him to rush to draw his Guide to him and shield him from any threat. 

Heumac's senses scanned the area even as he moved to a better vantage point. He couldn't discern from which direction the Guardian was arriving; the top of the defensive wall would give him a view around the area. 

He stood, focusing up the coast. The morning light painted the swell of the waves a shimmering white. Sea birds dived, head first, into the water, but further away Heumac could see dark shapes floating on the surface. He focused and saw a small flotilla of well-manned canoes was heading towards the city. Heumac felt for and found a sharp stone which he gripped tight, feeling it bite through his flesh. Using the pain to help ground him, he reached out further. In the bow of the first boat sat a man, calmly gazing back at Heumac. 

Heumac's hands folded into fists. This then was the other Guardian. He had an urge to stand in front of his adopted people and issue a challenge to this smug interloper. 

Pulling himself under control, Heumac took in as much information about these people as he could and realized he'd missed something. They were traveling under the banner of Ekahau, god of merchants. 

He quickly made his way down and around to the back of the temple and where Kukulkan was standing. The Guardian whispered to his king what he'd seen. Kukulkan's heart rate picked up, but outwardly he made no sign that he'd heard. He clicked his fingers to one of the junior acolytes. 

"Canoes are approaching bearing nobles from another city. Tell Itz'at Mahoute to prepare the people," the king ordered. 

The young priest's eyes widened, but he went and carried the message to Mahoute. 

* * *

Mahoute screwed up his eyes; he could just make out a number of black lines on the water. "How far away are they?" he asked. He'd joined his lover as soon as he could after the ritual and the announcement. 

"It'll take them about five hours to get here at the rate they are traveling," Heumac answered, grim faced. 

Mahoute looked up at his friend in awe. "You can tell there's another Guardian from that far away?" 

Heumac nodded. 

Mahoute turned back to the river. "Another Guardian..." 

Heumac noted the weight that his lover put into those two words and he felt his heart freeze over. Another Guardian, one more handsome than he, younger, maybe more of an intellectual match to Mahoute, such a man could come between him and his lover. Heumac was under no illusion over how much of a catch he was. Sometimes he felt it was only their spirit guides that kept them together. For what other reason would Mahoute put up with him when he was bad tempered and irritable? 

Mahoute, unaware of his lover's thoughts, turned away from the sea and grabbed Heumac's arm. "Come on, we need to get you ready to receive our guests." 

"They may not be coming as guests," he reminded his Guide. "It could just be a ploy so we would lower our guard. There could be as many as fifty armed men in each canoe. I need to get the king's guard ready, just in case, and post sentries, organize the fortifications." 

"You said they carried a banner with Ekahau's image upon it. They come to parley, to trade, not to fight. And your men are well trained; all you need to do is lead them. Everything else is in hand, you made sure of that. For our visitors, be they friend or foe, you need to look the part. Now come on!" Mahoute pushed and prodded Heumac towards their house. 

Heumac had a uniform that he wore for formal occasions. He had his finer loincloths, capes, finely woven huipils, and sandals; jewelry that marked his position, a headdress with feathers and jade. These were items that carried a lot of weight, both symbolically and in actuality. Normally he'd be proud to wear them, but right this moment he wanted to merge with the jungle, have his people do the same and keep his Guide well away from this other Guardian. With a heavy heart, he went where he was bid and got dressed in his finery. 

* * *

It seemed a long, but hectic, five hours before the carved wooden canoes were being pulled up onto the beach by their crew. A line of big warriors had climbed out and now stood at attention on the sand, waiting as slaves and servants unloaded baggage. 

Mahoute felt that the warriors were dressed to impress rather than intimidate. Heumac had his own warriors facing them, weapons at the ready. Other men were hiding in the bushes and in the jungle along the route to the city where hasty fortifications had been thrown up, just to be prudent. Here on the beach, there was to be a lot of posturing going on, with each side trying to stand straighter, appear more formidable. 

Heumac had tried to keep Mahoute behind the line, but his Guide refused to be hidden. Still Mahoute had to smile at his lover's protective streak. He took a moment to study his Guardian. Heumac was a warrior through and through; from the top of his short-cut dark hair -- easier to keep tidy -- to his neatly trimmed toenails. 

Mahoute couldn't help but appreciate those fine biceps, the muscular legs, even the exposed nape of Heumac's neck which Mahoute loved to kiss and lick. The whole package was his and he felt very territorial over it, territorial and possessive. He also felt very insecure and nervous. _It must be love,_ he thought. _I don't want to let him out of my sight in case he finds someone else, someone taller, fitter, handsomer... Well, I don't intend to give him up without a fight.... Even then, I'd find it very hard to walk away from him. I can't imagine life with out him now; I don't even want to try._

The row of foreign Maya warriors parted and allowed two men through. One was young, handsome and proud. He wore finely woven cloth, well crafted jewelry and had the markings of the red macaw tattooed on his body. He held himself tall and straight. _An aristocrat, no doubt,_ Mahoute thought. The other was covered in black tattoos depicting a monkey. He was more relaxed and had a friendly grin on his face. Mahoute had no doubt which was the Guardian and which the Guide. 

"I am Siyah Chan K'awil, Guardian of Ek' Balam. This," the Guardian turned to introduce his companion, "is K'an Chitam, my Guide and y-itah." 

Heumac nodded stiffly in greeting. "I am Heumac, Guardian of Tulum. My people welcome you." 

Mahoute realized Heumac wasn't about to introduce him so he spoke up. "And I am y-itah Mahoute, his companion. A keeper of the holy books, and the high priest of Tonatinh." 

"You wear a lot of hats," Chitam said. 

Mahoute grinned. "I am a man of many talents, though there are some who would say I have a big head." He looked pointedly at Heumac who just glared at him. 

Chitam laughed, earning himself a glare from his own Guardian. 

Mahoute instantly warmed to this Guide. 

Heumac left the main body of his men with the rest of the Ek' Balam warriors while he, Mahoute and a small escort took the foreigners up to the city. 

The Guardians walked side by side, but didn't speak, their Guides following. Mahoute asked Chitam about the journey down the coast, what they saw, whether Siyah Chan K'awil ever got sea sick. Chitam answered, describing the voyage and how he was even less in tune with the water than Siyah. 

Heumac tried not to listen, but he hid a smile at the way the two men had become instant friends. It was just the kind of thing his Guide was good at and this Chitam seemed the same. 

Mahoute took a moment to study the two men in front. He grinned as Siyah stole a quick glance at Heumac and made an effort to match his steps to the Tulum Guardian. It seemed that, without trying, Heumac had made another admirer. Good thing that Guardians didn't often mate with one another or Mahoute might have feared this man as a rival for Heumac's affection. 

* * *

The two men knelt in front of the king, Chitam behind his Guardian, and it was Siyah who spoke, introducing himself as the representative of his city. "My people of Ek' Balam were blessed by Hopop Caan in that he bypassed us on his way inland," he said ruefully. "We felt his wrath, but were able to recover quickly. However, we lost contact with many cities, including those we trade with. We only discovered that your people, Holy Lord, were safe when one of your nobles sought refuge with his wife's family in our city. 

"We seek to open peaceful commerce with your people. To establish new trade routes and hope you will allow us to use your city as a trade port for goods passing through. You will, of course, be presented with a percentage of that trade...." 

The deal was brokered over a cup of spicy chocolate and a lot of smiles. 

* * *

The four men sat together in the small courtyard outside Mahoute and Heumac's house where Siyah and Chitam were staying as guests. Their servants had prepared a meal of tamales, fish, and finally more hot chocolate, sweetened with honey. Nicely relaxed, leaning against some well stuffed cushions, Mahoute felt ready to ask questions of this other Guardian/Guide pair. 

"You're a merchant Guardian, that seems a strange calling." 

"It works well," Siyah answered. "As soon as people realize I am a Guardian, they tend to deal honestly." 

"Your senses give you an edge?" Heumac inquired. 

"Yes. It helps when you know if someone is trying to cheat you." 

"So how long have you two known each other?" 

Siyah looked at his partner. "Too long!" he said, earning himself an elbow in the ribs from his companion. Laughing, he turned back to Mahoute and his question. "We grew up together. Once my abilities came to the fore, it seemed natural that Chitam would become my Guide. Now we are bonded to each other for life." 

Chitam sighed dramatically. "I could have had a beautiful, nubile woman, instead I get you!" 

"No woman would look at you, my friend, get over it!" But Siyah was smiling. This was obviously a long standing, but good natured disagreement. He bit into a tamale and spoke around it. "How long have you two been together?" 

Mahoute looked at Heumac out of the corner of his eye. "Just over a year. We are still learning how to work together." 

Chitam's eyebrows rose. "So you are not bonded yet? That does surprise me. You seem very matched." 

"We are," Heumac put in before Mahoute could speak. "I couldn't have a better Companion. We are partners in every sense." 

Mahoute's eyes widened but he quickly schooled his expression and changed the subject. 

* * *

Siyah and Chitam stayed with them five more days. They had grown friendly enough for Chitam to give Mahoute a nickname, Kalomte Balam, `Curl Head', a nickname that Mahoute said he hated, but was secretly pleased at Chitam's easy acceptance. 

Most nights Mahoute lay awake long after Heumac had surrendered to sleep, staring into the dark, preoccupied with Heumac's, "We are partners". Those words had been playing on his mind all the while but Mahoute hadn't been able to discuss them with his lover due to his priestly duties. At this time of year there were more prayers to be made and the gods to be honored by washing the idols and redressing them. Now, with the start of a fresh month, Mahoute hoped to broach the subject the very next morning. Still they kept him awake that night. 

Heumac had obviously been sincere when he expressed himself, but was he making a claim on Mahoute as Guide, or warning off what he may have seen as a potential sexual rival.... Mahoute knew that he and Heumac had a link that sang between them like the perfect note, yet a ritual bond would turn that single note into a beautiful harmony, a harmony he could see flowed between Siyah and Chitam, and so far Heumac hadn't mentioned joining Mahoute in such a bond, and it should be the Guardian who asked for it from his Guide. It nagged at Mahoute, but he didn't know how to raise the subject. 

There was just enough pale grey light peeking through the cracks in the roof for Mahoute to see his sleeping lover. _It's funny,_ he thought, _how you can feel alone even when you're lying beside someone you love, if they're asleep and you're awake._

He became aware of the sounds of love-making coming from the next room. Siyah and Chitam seemed to be enthusiastically fucking -- he looked at the sleeping Heumac -- which was more than he and his Guardian were! He tried to ignore the noise, but now that it had intruded upon his thoughts, he couldn't shut the noise out and parts of his body were beginning to take an interest. He gazed again at his companion. How much would it take for him to wake Heumac up and get him aroused? Probably not much, with Heumac's enhanced Guardian senses, then again, Heumac had had a long day; he needed his sleep, and so did Mahoute... only Mahoute wouldn't get to sleep with his cock now as hard as obsidian. He sighed. 

"Are their nocturnal pursuits exciting you, Priest?" Heumac's soft voice floated over in the darkness. 

Mahoute noticed a tone of humor in that voice even if he couldn't make out Heumac's features. "No. Well, yes, but not in the way you mean. I was just thinking that it's been a while since we were making some noises of our own. We haven't done more than kiss and hold each other since the fever." 

Heumac rolled over to fully face Mahoute. "You would fall asleep before the main event!" 

Mahoute was about to say "you could have awakened me!" when Heumac stroked Mahoute's hair away from his face and continued softly, "but you needed the rest to get your strength back." 

Mahoute took Heumac's hand and placed it on his erect cock. "I'm awake now." 

"Mmm, so you are." Heumac leaned over to kiss Mahoute, all the while petting his lover's cock. He eased away a breath space. "Make some noise, Priest. Let our guests hear you," he whispered against Mahoute's lips. 

"Are you feeling competitive tonight?" Mahoute asked, smiling. 

"Mmm, competitive and possessive." 

"That makes two of us." Mahoute pulled his mate back to give him another passionate kiss. His hands began to caress and pull at Heumac, one hand slipping down to Heumac's cock. 

Heumac pulled away slowly, catching Mahoute's lower lip between his lips and tugging gently. He took a deep breath, ducking his head to kiss Mahoute's collarbone. "Let me... this time, just let me take control, please? I need...." 

His voice was shy and thready and Mahoute's hands slowed their caressing, then dropped away. "Whatever you want, Heumac, whatever you need." 

Heumac kissed his lover's forehead, a blessing of thanks, and then began to kiss and nibble his way along Mahoute's jaw line. When he reached Mahoute's ear he gently tugged at the lobe with his teeth and whispered. "I love you." 

He rolled Mahoute onto his back and straddled Mahoute's body, then he took his lover's wrists in his hands placing them on each side of the supine man's body, holding them there. Heumac licked and kissed his way down the column of the priest's neck to his collarbone. He paused to watch as Mahoute swallowed and the small node over his larynx bobbed up and down. Like a cat, Heumac pounced on it, sucking at it, owning it. 

Mahoute gasped and threw back his head, giving his lover even more assess, access which Heumac quickly took advantage of, sucking, nipping, causing a love-bite to rise up that would be visible to all for a number of days. 

Seemingly satisfied with leaving such a prominent mark, Heumac moved down Mahoute's body to sniff at his armpit, delicately tasting his lover's sweat, before turning his attention back to the hairy trail on Mahoute's chest. Heumac licked a swath across to pay homage to one of the hard, red nipples, licking, then lightly biting, then blowing gently to ease the bite, until Mahoute was panting out Heumac's name, fidgeting, trying to grind his cock against Heumac, branding his body with each swipe of its moist heat. Heumac had to use some of his body weight to keep Mahoute still. 

"Heumac... please... I need..." Mahoute gasped out incoherently. 

"What do you need, Priest? Tell me." 

"My hands... I want to... I need... to touch you. Please." 

"Soon." 

Mahoute let out a groan of pure frustration. "You are..." he swallowed noisily, "a cruel man... Heumac." 

"And you love it." Heumac answered smugly. 

Mahoute groaned again. 

Heumac kissed him over his heart and then carried on his journey down, reaching Mahoute's navel and licking it, and then he blew a raspberry against the depression, causing his lips to vibrate deliciously against Mahoute's stomach. The priest was torn between laughing and moaning at the sensations. 

This far down his lover's torso, Heumac was forced to release Mahoute's hands, but Mahoute was too far gone in his pleasure to notice. 

Heumac turned his attention to Mahoute's pelvic bone, spreading his hands along, feeling the lines that, like his ribs, were too prominent since Mahoute had been ill. Heumac resolutely pulled his focus away to concentrate on the one area that was demanding his attention. Mahoute's cock stood up proudly from the wiry curls. The foreskin was pulled back and the crown was an angry purple color with a drop of translucent cream sitting on the top. Heumac licked his lips and then licked his lover's essence, drawing up his sense of taste to experience all the flavors. 

Mahoute made a low keeling noise, surprising himself at the sound. Heumac buried his head between Mahoute's thighs, playfully nibbling at the inner skin of his right leg. Slowly, far too slowly for Mahoute, Heumac kissed his way up the length to the crown of Mahoute's cock. He studied it, licked it from root to top and then took just the head in his mouth. 

Mahoute sat up, leaning on his elbows to watch as Heumac worshipped his organ. Heumac didn't tighten his lips around the cock; he just began to move his head in a gentle circular movement, allowing Mahoute's cock to slide around in his mouth. His eyes were closed and he was obviously enjoying the sensations as much as Mahoute was. And it was an amazing feeling from Mahoute's side. 

The Guardian was being very careful to mind his teeth, and it was all Mahoute could do not to just mindlessly fuck Heumac's mouth. As if reading his thoughts, Heumac took a hold of the base of Mahoute's cock, while with his other hand he caressed Mahoute's balls. 

The pleasure was incredible and Mahoute could no long hold himself up, he fell back onto the bed with a heartfelt, "By all the gods, that's good. Oh, yes... oh..." Somehow Heumac had managed to push a finger into Mahoute's asshole and was feeling for Mahoute's pleasure spot. As he found it, Mahoute arched off the bed and came, yelling Heumac's name. 

Although he wanted to slip into sleep, Mahoute roused himself and reached for Heumac's body. "Let me return the favor," he said, huskily. 

Heumac guided his hand down to his damp crotch and flaccid cock. "No need, I came when you did." 

Mahoute smiled smugly. "As you told Siyah, we are partners in all things." 

* * *

Siyah and Chitam watched as Mahoute performed the ritual next morning and then they joined Mahoute and Heumac for breakfast. The acolyte, Nun Yax, had been selected to play guide while they were in the city. He'd entertained them when Mahoute and Heumac could not. That afternoon there would be more formal discussions about the trading agreements before Siyah and Chitam journeyed inland to seek out other contacts. 

Mahoute was quiet as they ate their breakfast. Heumac knew something was on his lover's mind and, if he waited long enough, Mahoute would tell him. 

Sure enough, after Siyah and Chitam had left to gather supplies, and the servants had been dismissed, while Heumac was sharpening his knife, Mahoute looked up from his books. "Heumac..." 

His voice sounded hesitant as if he wasn't sure how to phrase what he was about to say and Heumac tensed up. 

Mahoute's face was in shadow, but that wasn't a problem for the Guardian. "Why did you lie to Chan K'awil?" 

Heumac frowned, puzzled. "I didn't. What would I have to lie about?" 

Mahoute nodded slowly. "Well maybe `lie' is too strong a word, more obfuscate, cloud the truth, and I do understand. I mean, you probably bonded with a Guide before you met me and he, or she, may still be alive, so you can't truly bond with me..." 

"Mahoute..." 

Mahoute had his head down and wasn't listening. "I know we have this connection, and I'm happy with that, but then you've never mentioned anyone else, though on the other hand, you've never suggested going on a bond quest with me. I understand if there was a problem with this other Guide that you don't feel you could discuss with me, but..." 

**"MAHOUTE!"**

The priest's head jerked up. 

"I have never, to my knowledge," Heumac accentuated each word, "bonded with anyone else. I've never heard of a bond quest. I don't have the faintest idea what you are talking about." 

Mahoute stood up, angry with his partner. "You must do! How else would you have survived..." He towered over the still seated Heumac, but then he hesitated, suddenly unsure. "You're not lying, are you, Heumac? You really don't know to what I'm referring." 

"Yes. No. I really don't know what you are talking about!" Heumac sighed. "What is it that is so important to you, Mahoute?" 

"Your reaction towards the Guide from Ek' Balam, I wondered what happened, how you managed, I was sure you must have bonded with someone before me." 

"My reaction? How did I react to him? He's pleasant enough. He's not you though. And he's obviously taken with his Guardian." 

Mahoute smiled. "As often as possible, I'd say!" 

Heumac groaned at the pun. "I'd say you were interested in the Guardian, if I didn't know you better." 

Mahoute shook his head. "If anything I am jealous of them," he said sadly. 

"Jealous? Why?" Heumac was genuinely puzzled. 

"Heumac, they are a bonded pair, something we are not. And I can't help but wonder why not?" 

Heumac heard the despondency in his lover's voice, even if he still didn't understand the reason for it. Fear again took hold in his chest. He stood up. "I know I don't say it often, but I feel that I couldn't live without you, wouldn't want to. What more is there?" 

Mahoute's gaze bored into him. "If you really aren't lying to me, then surely as soon as Yich'ak K'ak knew he had such a special son, he consulted the learned men to help you cope?" 

"My father thought of my senses as a sign of weakness to be hidden." 

"Heumac, who helped you gain control of your senses?" Mahoute's voice dropped into the softer tones he used to calm Heumac down. 

This time, however, it only served to irritate the Guardian. "Before you?" he snapped. 

"Yes, before me!" Mahoute specified, his hands gripping Heumac's arms. "Was it a sibling? Your mother? Your father?" 

Heumac scoffed and shook off his lover's hands. "My father was too busy ruling his domain. My brother was the perfect warrior. My mother committed suicide..." 

Mahoute gasped in surprise. 

"...and my brother's mother died giving birth to a dead baby." 

"Someone helped you," Mahoute pressed. "Tell me the truth, Heumac. Trust me." 

"Scary words, Priest." Heumac let out a long breath, losing any resentment with it. It wasn't Mahoute's fault that Heumac was bitter. "There was a scribe, part of the tribute from one of Yich'ak K'ak's conquered cities." 

"A slave?" 

Heumac grinned ruefully. "What comes around..." 

"What happened to him?" Mahoute's voice was quiet, a little fearful. 

Heumac stepped away and looked out of the doorway to the city. 

Mahoute waited behind him. 

"My father had him executed," Heumac began. "He found us together in my chamber." Heumac dropped his head and said quietly, "he might have let K'ahk'upakal live if he hadn't heard me begging the scribe to fuck me harder." 

"He never told you about the pools?" There was no censor in Mahoute's voice, but there was sympathy. 

"No." Heumac turned around. "Damn it, Priest, what's so special about these pools?" 

"Oh, just that if we go into them together, we'll be bonded for the rest of our lives." Mahoute suddenly laughed. "Forgive me, Heumac, I just can't believe I was jealous of a dead man. All this time I thought you hadn't mentioned the pools because you were already bonded. I am such an idiot!" 

Heumac mouth twisted in a smile. "I'm beginning to think I agree with you. You still aren't making a lot of sense. What's this about the rest of our lives?" 

Mahoute frowned. "You don't want to be with me always?" 

"Yes, I want that with you, Priest. I just didn't think it was in question." 

Mahoute chuckled. "No, it's not." He closed the gap between them. "But this experience will bind us spiritually as well as physically." He pressed his body against Heumac's, his hands holding onto Heumac's hips. "Once bonded, you will never get away from me again, my Guardian." 

Heumac could feel the heat from Mahoute's body and his hands strayed to Mahoute's ass, trying to pull him closer still. "So where are these pools?" he asked, huskily. 

"That, I don't know for sure. I only have a vague knowledge of the area." 

"Then if you don't know and I don't know...." 

"I can guide you, but you have to guide us to the cave." 

"But how will I know..." 

"You'll know," Mahoute said with certainty. 

"But if I don't?" 

"Then we will just have the physical joining and someone else is your true Guide." 

Heumac shook his head vehemently. "You are the only one I want or need." 

"Which is why you'll find the way." 

Heumac sighed. "So when do we start?" 

"First you have to announce that we are going." 

"Tell me I don't have to tell the whole city." 

"All right, I won't tell you." 

"Mahoute! I'd rather have my teeth pulled." 

Mahoute nodded sagely and Heumac groaned inwardly. He knew that look on his Guide's face. Mahoute radiated concern and understanding, but underneath he was about to use some cunning manipulation that would have Heumac capitulating faster than he could name the Lords of Darkness. How many times in the past year had he seen that same look? How many times had he dug his heels in only to find himself doing precisely what he said he wouldn't do? "Just once," he murmured, "just once, I'd like to have some say in what I will and will not do. Just once." 

Mahoute held himself still. "I'm proud of who you are. I'm proud to be your Guide. Now, tell me, oh shy one, what is so wrong with you standing up in front of our people and telling them that you intend to bond with me? If you want to run the risk that sometime in the future someone will declare that our bonding is false because we had no witnesses to what we are about to do..." He let his words trail away and Heumac knew he didn't have any choice. 

Mahoute could see the moment Heumac capitulated. "We'll have to get Kukulkan's approval, of course. Then I'll find the most auspicious day to announce our leaving. After that, we'll have to find the cave and pools before the next unlucky day comes around on the calendar." 

* * *

The announcement was staged on one of the lower steps of the temple while the king watched from above, after Siyah and Chitam had left with their retinue into the jungle. Heumac's cheeks burned as he began his formal speech. "I, Heumac, son of Yich'ak K'ak, Guardian of this city..." 

"And I, Mahoute, son of Chimalma, priest of Tonatinh..." Mahoute added his own voice. 

"Intend to ask the gods to bless our bond as Guardian and Guide. To this end we will go on a scared journey to make offerings to the gods..." 

There were smiles and cheering as the two men stepped down. Some patted them on the back. Others wished them well. 

"It's gone!" 

Heumac and Mahoute turned to see Nun Yax, the priest, running towards them, breathing hard, as though from strenuous exercise. 

"What's gone, Yax?" Mahoute asked. 

Yax bent over, clutching his side. "The crystal skull. It's gone from its hiding place." 

Heumac's mouth fell open. 

"You have a crystal skull?" Mahoute sounded incredulous. "What are you doing with such a thing? They belong to Guardians, not to priests." 

Yax looked chastened. "I saved it... from the destruction of Izlum. No one seemed to value it. It should be honored, not disregarded. The Guardian from Ek' Balam was most interested in it," he sulkily defended his actions. 

* * *

By law, the word of a priest was not to be questioned without the king's approval, and a thorough search of the city was undertaken by Heumac's men. Heumac, Mahoute and Yax would search the elite's homes, starting with the visiting Guardian and Guide's room. 

But something was bothering Heumac. While Mahoute and Yax tore the bedding to pieces, Heumac excused himself to pass water. As he stepped into the other room where he and Mahoute had been sleeping, his eyes scanned the dark corners. He wasn't sure what he was searching for... until he saw it, a small blanket bundle pushed into the darkness of the rafters. 

Carefully, so as not to make any noise and draw Yax's attention to his actions, he pulled the blanket to one side to reveal the glint of crystal. Quickly he extracted the small transparent skull from its covering, shoving the blanket back into the space. For a moment the crystal shone in the light like a watery sun and Heumac examined it, admiring the way he could see right into its depths. It was beautiful, a pale golden color, with no cracks or blemishes. The surface was smooth, the features faultless. Pulling himself away from looking too deep, he heard Yax saying that there was nothing in the room and they should examine the rest of the house. With no time to find a good hiding place, Heumac quickly hid it in the leather bucket they used to piss in and closed the lid down, just in time as Mahoute and Yax reappeared. 

Heumac stepped from behind the privacy screen and made a pretence of adjusting his clothes. He watched as Yax began to search the room, but it was obvious to Heumac that he was only playing lip service to the hunt. Once under the hidden blanket, Yax just `happened' to look up. "Look, what is that? I recognize that blanket. It is similar to mine!" 

"What, that old thing?" Heumac ambled over. "It's a pretty common design. I've had that a while. I just stuffed it there to hide the hole that I will have to fix in the roof." 

Mahoute was looking at him with perplexity. 

Heumac reached up and pulled the blanket down, pulling a little of the roof stuffing down with it. He shook the cloth to show there was nothing hidden. He enjoyed the confused look on Yax's face. "Now, if you're satisfied, we have many other places to search." 

They went through the pretence of searching around the city. Heumac was able, at one stage, to slip away and retrieve the skull, wash it and replace it in Yax's house. It was a close run thing, but as he rejoined the others and they stepped into the young priest's house on the ploy of looking for clues, Heumac was able to `discover' the skull on the floor behind some sacks. Yax looked bewildered. Only Heumac could tell that he was also annoyed at being thwarted. 

* * *

"You think Yax hid that skull here, don't you." Mahoute asked once they were alone again back in their own home. 

Heumac nodded. 

"Why?" 

"To incriminate me, and through me, you?" 

"Why?" Mahoute again asked. 

Heumac shrugged. "Greed? Power? Maybe he was one of Nasca's followers and wished to revenge his death by harming you. Maybe he resented me as a Toltec being your lover. Maybe he doesn't approve of you having a male lover, or maybe he's just afraid of what he doesn't understand.... Mahoute, did Izlum have its own Guardian before I came along?" 

"No." Mahoute shook his head, frowning. "From what I've heard, Guardians are being born less frequently. You were the first one I'd encountered in my life, probably the first in a generation to arrive in Izlum." 

"Then where did the crystal skull come from? They are meant to be buried with the Guardian who carved them. The carving helps to focus a Guardian's senses; each one belongs to an individual Guardian. Who owned that skull?" 

Mahoute's face twisted in disgust. "Nasca. He had certain... tricks, to keep his powerbase, certain apparatus that he used to announce his prophesies. He would use candles to light the skull and, hidden inside the altar, was a special apparatus with bowls and a tapir's bladder. When used in a certain way, air and water rushing through the tubes made a sound that Nasca said was the voice of the gods. 

"Don't ask me from where or from whom _he_ got the skull, I wasn't in his favor. He `acquired' it, that's all I know. I destroyed the contraption when we were salvaging, but I couldn't bring myself to smash the skull." 

"Would Nun Yax know of this apparatus?" 

Mahoute shook his head. "He was a very junior proselyte, still leaning the tests and riddles in the Language of Zuyua; he would have just seen the lights and heard the noises." 

"So he could have been totally taken in and think the skull was even more precious than it was." 

"It's possible." Mahoute said slowly. He turned to look at Heumac. "Did you carve such a skull?" 

"I started to... but my father threw it out." 

Mahoute's anger at his lover's father grew. 

"He was a good man in many ways, Mahoute, but he was also human, something a king sometimes forgets." 

Mahoute decided to put that to one side for now. "Back to my original thought; why now, why did Yax decide to take action now?" 

"Maybe he was looking for an opportunity. Maybe he thought he had that when Siyah and Chitam arrived." Heumac stood. "By implying that our friends took the skull, he wasn't accusing me outright. Then if he... stumbled on it hidden in our rafters, he could appear to be horrified and innocent of any wrongdoing." 

"That's an awful lot of maybes." Mahoute sadly hung his head. "I just don't want to believe he could hate us this much. I shared the mysteries with him, ate with him, and never had any idea that he could be plotting against us." He looked up at his lover. "So what do we do about this? He's tried to discredit us once, what's to stop him from doing it again?" 

"We have no proof to take to the king," Heumac pointed out. "It's all circumstantial. And, unless we postpone our trip, we can't keep an eye on him. Do you want to wait?" 

"No. We've declared our intention. Not to go now would be seen as procrastination at best, at worst as cowardice or a lack of faith. We just have to chance it and hope the gods smile on us. Unless," Mahoute hesitated, "unless you have reservations about going?" 

"I do," Heumac said, and then smiled. "But I think I need this as much as you." 

Mahoute relaxed. "Good. We leave in the morning, but first there are some rituals we must do...." 

* * *

"Tell me again why I have to have an octlii enema?" Heumac squirmed ever so slightly over his lover's lap, not to dislodge the bone tube in his ass, but to accommodate the growing feeling of fullness. "I feel stupid." 

"It's a very weak solution of pulque, a special mix for Guardian senses. As part of my mandate as priest and healer, and your Guide-in-all-but-bond, I know which dosage is best for you. And who else is here to look at you? The whole idea," Mahoute continued, "is to put you in the right frame of mind for the quest. The octlii is a mild relaxant which will give you visions, visions I can guide you with. In addition it will put you in touch with your animal spirit guide." 

"Wonderful!" Heumac said, sarcasm coloring his voice. "Not only will I get the runs, but I will do it as a jaguar!" 

"You don't usually complain when I give you an enema. Usually you enjoy the experience of lying over my lap." Mahoute ran his hand over Heumac's ass gently so as not to joggle the leather pouch containing the fermented brew. He couldn't resist playing his fingers around Heumac's stretched hole, causing his lover to groan. 

"So when do I get to inflict this... honor upon you?" Heumac asked, trying to distract himself. 

Mahoute was silent as he gently removed the tube and bag, and wiped Heumac clean. 

Heumac awkwardly turned to study Mahoute. "Oh, I see. I alone get the honor of visions." He stood shakily and made his way behind the privacy screen to use the bucket. 

Mahoute stood, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other, on the other side of the barrier. "As I said, one of us has to keep a clear head and I have to keep you focused and watch for any danger. You have to find the way to the caves. That has to be your chief concern." 

Heumac concentrated on ignoring the stomach cramps and the feeling of his body losing control. 

"Heumac?" Mahoute sounded worried and Heumac sighed. He never was able to stay annoyed with his lover for long. 

"How soon will the visions start? They won't send me crazy will they?" 

"No, no more than you are already." 

"Thanks!" Heumac got to his feet and the room spun around him. "Whoa!" He put out a hand to the top of the screen and held on. 

Mahoute was at once there, supporting his lover, putting Heumac's arm over his shoulder and guiding him to the bed. "Damn it! The dosage is supposed to be correct for Guardians. Is it bad?" He raised worried eyes to Heumac's face. 

"No, just... give me a moment." He took a good look at Mahoute. "You are beautiful, you know that?" 

Mahoute chuckled, relieved. "Oh boy. You are seriously out of it, aren't you?" 

Heumac shook his head. "No, I've always thought so, but with the light around you...." 

Mahoute maneuvered his lover over to the bed and Heumac pulled Mahoute down, getting himself comfortable by laying his head on Mahoute's lap. Mahoute stroked his short hair. "Better?" 

Heumac wriggled slightly. "Much." 

Mahoute laughed quietly. "Any more comfortable and you'll be purring, my friend. Now, close your eyes and let your mind see the trail we need to take." 

Heumac licked his lips and Mahoute gave him a sip of water. 

"Just one more thing... while we are taking this journey, we have to abstain from any sexual congress." 

"What! Why were you playing with my ass back then?" 

Mahoute ducked his head so that Heumac couldn't see his sly grin. "You have a tempting ass, what can I say?" 

"Huh!" But Heumac's eyes were heavy and he began to slip into a blue jungle.... 

* * *

In front of him stood a jaguar, black as a moonless night. They were in front of the city, looking out towards the jungle. Before them was a path, shining white and as bright as day. It led off into the forest. The cat took one look back at Heumac and then began to run. Heumac followed, noticing odd things on the way; the way a certain tree bent, the smell of a certain plant, the droppings of a certain animal -- and up ahead a temple shone through the jungle.... 

* * *

The two men left at first light, after taking their leave of the king -- adding a word of warning about Nun Yax -- with enough provisions for many days. After that Mahoute hoped they would have found what they were looking for and could hunt food. If they hadn't... well, he wasn't thinking about that. 

The jungle closed around them as soon as they stepped off the road. The air was thick and heavy with humidity. It was both sinister and dense and Mahoute felt as if the jungle itself was testing them. He soon lost his sense of direction. 

Unfortunately, it appeared that Heumac did too. He turned around, scanning the jungle and then just shrugged, helplessly. 

"All right," Mahoute said, trying not to panic. "Take a moment. Just relax. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath in... let it out... in... out... open up your senses to the jungle, let your spirit guide you." He held Heumac's arm to help steady him, give the Guardian something to focus on. 

Mahoute waited, impatiently, as Heumac just stood, eyes closed, breathing steadily. Then, just as Mahoute thought his instructions weren't working, Heumac cocked his head as though listening to something Mahoute couldn't hope to hear. Then Heumac opened his eyes, eyes that were primal, wild. He turned slowly around. "This way," he said with assurance. 

For Heumac, the path had been clear as a luminous trail that snaked through the jungle. But it abruptly seemed to just peter out and vanish. Suddenly lost and bewildered, Heumac almost stumbled. Doubts set in and with them fear that he would fail; that Mahoute would withdraw, convinced he wasn't Heumac's true Guide. That was when Mahoute's voice penetrated his mind. He picked out the slight hesitation in the instructions which made his focus more intently... and the jaguar roared. Failure was not an option. As he opened his eyes, the trail became clear again and his senses sharpened. 

The jungle looked impenetrable, but Heumac pushed through and Mahoute began to see signs of a path. 

Lizards rustled away among dead leaves. Spider monkeys leapt between the trees and howler monkeys bellowed far off. The temperature seemed oppressively high even under the thick canopy of leaves. Between the trees, Mahoute caught glimpses of the sky as a brilliant, shifting pattern of blue, but he didn't have time to rest and admire as he struggled to stay up with Heumac. 

They pushed on, though Mahoute was feeling fatigued. In places the ground was muddy and wet. Leeches attached themselves to his legs and insects bit. Then a macaw screamed and Heumac let out a cut-off groan and covered his ears. Mahoute immediately reached for his Guardian's hands. "Pull the level down," he ordered, getting into Heumac's face, rubbing his thumbs over Heumac's hands. 

Heumac took a deep breath before he lowered his hands. 

"It'll be dark soon," noted Mahoute. "What do you say to making camp for the night?" 

Heumac gazed at Mahoute's sweaty face. He could see his lover's exhaustion. And it wasn't so long since Mahoute was close to death with fever. He nodded. His spirit wanted to go on, but he had to admit the constant use of his senses was taking a toll on his body. They could both do with some rest. 

* * *

Mahoute awoke feeling both better and aroused. Heumac's cock was nudging against his ass. He pushed back before he consciously thought about it, only for Heumac to move away. Before Mahoute could object, Heumac kissed the back of his neck. "Have you forgotten, Priest, we are supposed to abstain from sex until we bond?" 

Mahoute cursed silently. He had forgotten and so had the hard member between his legs. It didn't help that Heumac was quietly laughing. 

"Oh yes, _now_ you see the funny side!" 

* * *

Three times in the next four days, Mahoute had to guide Heumac back to the path. The last time, Heumac admitted something was bothering him. "It's like an itch. Something is on the edge of my awareness, something I'm sure I could discover if I wasn't so focused on this quest. It's frustrating." 

"Could it be that the gods are testing you, us? Playing tricks on your senses?" 

Heumac shook his head. "You and your gods, Priest!" he said, irritably. "Sometimes I think..." 

"Sometimes you wonder if the gods even exist?" Mahoute interjected. "I have wondered the same thing. Most men do. But, Heumac, look at us. Coyote and jaguar, priest and warrior. Who'd have thought we'd get together? There has to be something, or someone, pushing us to the right path. We just have to rely on our instincts, allow them to guide us." 

"Right..." Heumac said, sarcastically. All the same, he knew there was wisdom in what Mahoute said. However much he disliked this other-worldly side of their relationship, he couldn't deny its existence. 

* * *

After an energy-sapping five days, the two men emerged from the jungle to find themselves at the foot of the mountain. 

All Mahoute saw was a blank cliff face, covered with the tangled growth of vines. He couldn't see any sign of an entrance into the mountain. He looked at his partner. Heumac was concentrating on the wall of rock right in front of them. He moved forward, his palms raised towards the mountain. "There's a breeze... just here." He began to pull at the vines and plants, dragging them away from their foundation. Mahoute went to help him... and discovered a carving of a jaguar beside a large carving of the all-seeing eye of god. Below this was a small opening into the mountain. 

Spider's webs curtained the aperture and Heumac pulled them away in disgust. 

"Well, hello there!" Mahoute noticed a large spider heading towards Heumac's arm. Mahoute smoothly took up a branch and scooped the spider away. 

"What the hell...?" Heumac turned just in time to see the spider scurry away. 

"Just removing one of Lady Spider's children. We are about to enter part of her dark domain, don't want to upset our hostess, now do we?" 

Heumac chucked. "You ready?" 

"As I'll ever be." 

They had to bend low to get in through the opening, but once inside they straightened up in almost pitch blackness. As Mahoute's eyes adjusted, he noticed a ray of light shining from above and behind him, pointing towards the back of the cave. He looked back and found the entry point. It would be just where the pupil of the carved eye was. 

"Hold this." Heumac pressed something into his hands and then Mahoute saw a spark of light, then another, and the torch Heumac gave him burst into light. 

"I don't want you to fall over the rocks strewn about the floor," Heumac said, smiling. 

Mahoute tched. "Just because I don't have your eyesight, doesn't mean that I'm clumsy." All the same, he was extra careful as he followed Heumac to the back of the narrow cave where the beam of light pointed to another cave. 

* * *

The inner chamber was lower than the entrance corridor and Mahoute's torch showed slippery, uneven steps down. He was aware of damp, warm air, but as his torch lit up the grotto his sensitivity to that faded away. 

"Wow!" he said as he gazed around. 

Each wall was covered in brightly colored paintings and Mayan writing. Mahoute went straight to the nearest painting and, noticing another torch set in a socket in the wall, he lit it with his own, then went around the chamber, illuminating each wall as he lit each torch, exclaiming over each new drawing. 

"This water's warm." Heumac's voice drew Mahoute's attention and he turned to see his lover squatting by two long rectangular pools, his hand in the still water. 

"They are probably fed by underground heated springs. I expect they also have health-giving compounds in them." 

Heumac sniffed the tip of his finger then experimentally licked them. "Slightly salty, but nothing else I can detect. What have you found?" 

"This is amazing! These walls are damp, but whatever the ancestors used on them... the paintings, they could have been painted yesterday! This..." he reverently touched one section, "is a list of ingredients for a potion which..." He looked around and then bolted into another chamber at the back. 

"Mahoute! What are you doing? Be careful, you don't know what is in..." 

"Yes!" Mahoute cried out triumphantly. He returned, his arms full of jars. "All the ingredients are here, Heumac. There's even a cold fresh-water spring back there. Everything is here ready for our journey to the bonding spirits." 

Mahoute was so enthusiastic that Heumac tried not to show how much he was not looking forward to yet another mystical experience or concoction. He watched as Mahoute began to prepare an ill-smelling mixture with a mortar and pestle. 

Finally Mahoute straightened up and dipped a finger in the bowl. "Yum!" He offered his finger dripping with brownish-green soup to Heumac who eyed it suspiciously. 

"Are you sure you have this right?" 

"It's what's written on the walls. A simple enough concoction, really. All the plants were here, ready." He paused at the look on Heumac's face. "A couple of sips each, then we strip and lie in the pools, one for Guides and the other pool for Guardians." 

Heumac still looked doubtful. 

"Just trust me, please?" 

"I do trust you; just this mystical stuff makes me, well, uncomfortable." Heumac eyed the evil-smelling goo his Guide wanted him to drink. 

"I get that, I really do understand, but I'm with you, Heumac, every step of the way. You know what they say, if it tastes bad, it must be doing you good." 

Heumac smiled. "That's what `they' say is it, Priest?" 

Mahoute grinned back. "Yes." 

"Well, far be it for me to disagree with them." He took the bowl, pulled his sense of taste and smell down and took a couple of sips. 

* * *

"Just relax, Heumac. Let yourself feel the water. Just float. Look into the shadows. Listen to the emptiness between sounds; let your mind become unfocused." 

Heumac instinctively did as his Guide told him. The water buoyed him up, supported him, and he felt his body become lighter. For a few moments, he just lay there, the water lapping around him as his chest rose and fell. Then he became aware of an itch on his scalp. He resisted the urge to scratch it, but it became a tingle that crept into a pain, that traveled the length of his body -- and he found he couldn't lift his arms to do anything about it -- until he was screaming inside with fear and agony. Over the fear came his Guide's voice. 

"Heumac, listen to me," Mahoute said, slowly. "It's all right.... Just let the pain go. Do you hear me? Let... the... pain... go." Mahoute's voice was strained, as though he too was in pain and struggling to get his words out. Heumac's first reaction was to go to his lover, but he couldn't move. 

"Heumac! Do it. Repeat after me; the... pain... is... gone!" 

And just like that, it disappeared. 

Heumac opened his eyes. He was in a jungle. It looked perfectly natural, except for the color, oh and the fact that he seemed to be on all fours... in fact -- he looked down -- instead of hands and feet he had... paws, furry black paws and his body seemed to be wrapped in fur. All his senses were sharpened. He felt, saw, smelt, and heard more, which should have abused his senses; instead it felt natural and really good. He laughed in pure joy and heard a sigh behind him. Turning, he saw Mahoute, or rather; he saw an animal that he knew was Mahoute, gazing at him with love in his eyes. 

His Guide shook himself and looked down. 

Mahoute made a sound as if he was trying to whistle. "I'm a coyote!" Mahoute didn't seem to be talking, or barking, the words just came naturally into Heumac's head. 

"A wolf," Heumac corrected, his mind supplying the unfamiliar word. 

"A wolf," Mahoute agreed. He looked closely at Heumac. "But look at you!" Mahoute/wolf's tongue hung out and his tail sat high. "You are hot! A big, beautiful, fuck-able jaguar." 

Heumac stretched his long body smugly posing. "Put that tongue away, Mahoute," he scolded, good naturedly. "It does feel very good," he admitted. "You look very... appealing yourself." Heumac licked his lips. 

Mahoute chuckled. "What, this old thing?" He turned in a circle, showing off his coat. "I just happened to have it handy." 

"So what's going on here, Priest? Why are we... the way we are? I mean, this is unbelievable. I'm a man, not a... jaguar." 

"Oh, I think a lot of things are possible here, my friend. This is where we are meant to be." Mahoute sat on his haunches and cocked his head to one side, studying Heumac. Heumac allowed the examination, although he wanted to fidget. 

The wolf stood and slowly approached the jaguar, lowering his tail. He nipped at Heumac's face, bumped against his nose. Then he loped back and wagged his tail. It looked as if he wanted to play. 

He circled around Heumac, bumping against his body, then sniffing Heumac/jaguar's backside. 

Heumac lowered his head and groaned as a familiar, yet strange tongue wetted his asshole. He lifted his tail higher to allow more contact. Mahoute's wolf tongue licked and then jabbed in and out, in and then out again. Heumac loved when Mahoute did this. It turned him inside out; had him begging to be fucked.... His moral conscience rebelled at such thoughts and he tried to sit down, denying his Guide access to that personal part of his body. "Cats and dogs are not supposed to mate, Mahoute. I don't think what you want is possible." 

Mahoute pushed his snout against Heumac's haunches and gave a quick nip that had his Guardian turn with a growl. 

"I told you a lot of things are possible, Heumac." Mahoute/wolf wasn't in the least bit intimidated. He stood, turned and started to pad away as if he'd lost interest. 

Heumac looked at his guide's retreating back in stunned surprise. "Hey! Wait! You don't usually give in so easily!" He tried to call him back. "Where are you going, Priest?" 

Mahoute stopped and turned. His eyes blazed with fire. "Not far, never far from you." Those eyes locked on Heumac's and Mahoute began to run towards the jaguar. 

Heumac's body was moving towards the wolf before he consciously thought of it. 

The ground between them seemed to widen and it took a lot of effort to close the gap, but, slowly, they drew closer. Heumac could hear Mahoute's paw-steps beating on the soft earth, growing faster, almost missing the ground in their speed... and then Mahoute leapt and Heumac did the same and the jungle exploded in a blaze of light.... 

Heumac was flying. There were no restraints on him any longer. Nothing to tie him to the earth. No morals to adhere to, no one to tell him the `correct' way to behave, no one to give him orders... he was free of all shackles. Beside him flew Mahoute, his beautiful, resilient, clever Guide. He was all Heumac ever needed, ever wanted. With Mahoute loving him, respecting him, he felt good about himself, good about his abilities. 

The sky around him was clear and bright blue. He was so high; the ground below was nothing but a collection of greens and blues, with odd dots of white and red. Down there was darkness, here there was light, light of color, lightness of body. 

Up ahead shone a star, shining brighter than the beautiful pale blue sky. Heumac knew what the star was, Venus, the one the wise men studied; the star they based their prophesies of the future upon, the star they looked to to explain the worries of the present, the emblem of the elder of the hero twins, Hun Ahau. Heumac bathed in its light. It was sending out rays of energy and Heumac knew that they would grant him power, make him a great Guardian, able to protect the weak and bring the evil to justice; to look after his people and serve them well. He would no longer feel like an outsider. 

Far below him he heard the roll of thunder, the flash of lightening. But he was far above it and it posed no danger to his flight. Up here he could be whoever he wanted to be. He could do whatever he wanted. He could be a great leader, a leader of men. Hun Ahau would grant him wisdom and strength. After seeing how wise he'd become, Kukulkan would surely invite Heumac to join him as leader, uniting the Toltec and the Maya. They would become a great nation. He would open relations with the Aztecs, they would see how benevolent he was, how strong and they would bow down to him. He could bring peace to the entire land, he and his Guide.... 

The thought of Mahoute made his groin itch. He groaned out loud. He wanted to smell his Guide's essence, to taste his warm skin, to hear his moans of pleasure and to fill Mahoute with his seed. Heumac turned to talk to his Guide, but Mahoute wasn't there. Heumac reached out with his senses, expecting to find Mahoute flying behind him, but there was no sign of him. Heumac, puzzled, stretched out further, turning away from the beguiling `eye' of Venus, reaching out to find some evidence of where his Guide could be. He began to get worried when there was no trace of Mahoute anywhere. No heartbeat, no scent, no sign of his Guide at all. 

Heumac's worry grew. His priest was a lodestone for trouble. He needed Heumac to keep him safe, just as Heumac needed Mahoute to help with his senses. Mahoute could be drowning in the pool, back... wherever the pools were, and Heumac was here, wherever here was. He needed to get back... there. He closed his eyes and tried to relax, willing himself back. But when he opened his eyes, he was still in this bright sky. Still, there were some changes; the sky didn't look so inviting now. Venus seemed less seductive and more sinister. Heumac wanted to get back to his Guide. This wasn't pleasant any longer; the sky had taken on a stormy hue. Then his world began to tilt and swirl around him. Images of death and disaster appeared and swam in front of his eyes. He felt sick, and then the images moved faster, buffeting against him, hitting him with invisible force. He began to scream.... 

* * *

"Let me go!" Mahoute struggled against the men holding him. He was furious and scared for Heumac. These men had come into the shrine and pulled him from the water, leaving Heumac alone in the spirit world with no anchor, no Guide to center him. All Mahoute could do was to stand there and watch while his Guardian panicked and screamed in the pool, against who knew what, while these... animals wouldn't release Mahoute to go to him. 

* * *

The horrifying images smacked against Heumac. His throat was sore from screaming for Mahoute so he called out for the only other person who had ever helped him. "K'ahk'upakal!" 

The long dead slave appeared. "Why do you call me, Guardian?" His voice was calm. 

"Help me! Make it stop!" Heumac pleaded. 

"Open your eyes. Look to the light..." 

Heumac shook his head. "No, the light is dangerous." 

"Guardian, look to the light." K'ahk'upakal ordered. 

* * *

Fury gave Mahoute strength. He pulled back his left elbow and jabbed back, at the same time he stamped down with his right foot. The back of his head collided with a nose and he was able to wrench himself free. He was at Heumac's side in a heartbeat. 

Heumac opened his eyes to see Mahoute's anxious face. He felt Mahoute's arms around him, supporting his upper body. He lifted a wet, shaky hand to grasp Mahoute's and wiped the water from his face with his other hand. "What the hell happened?" His voice was rough. 

"These... bastards dragged me out of the pool and wouldn't let me help you." Mahoute's eyes focused on Nun Yax who stood there so proud and smug. "You interrupted a sacred act between a Guardian and his Guide. He could be seriously harmed by your amoral actions. What, by all the nine hells, were you thinking?" 

"You talk of amoral? You who took a male lover -- a slave?" 

"An ex-slave, as are these men who stand with you now." Mahoute glared at the four Toltec men who crowded the cavern. These were the men who had escaped into the jungle; the slaves Heumac refused to hunt down believing they deserved their chance at freedom, and this was how they repaid his lover? "What did Num Yax give you to betray your own prince?" 

"Mahoute." Heumac laid his hand on Mahoute's shoulder. "They have the right to choose who they support, even if it is the wrong choice." 

"Bind the Guardian first," Yax ordered. "You know how tricky he can be." He held a knife to Mahoute's throat, dragging him away from Heumac. "If you give us any trouble, Guardian, your Guide's blood will spill, have no doubt about that." 

Heumac allowed his hands to be tied behind him. 

Mahoute struggled as the man turned their attention to him, only giving in at Heumac's minute shake of his head. His hands were tied in front of him. 

The Guardian had heard more men outside the chamber, standing guard. They were in no position to fight, yet. 

The two men were dragged and pushed up the steps and into the outside corridor, their wet loincloths sticking to their bodies, their bare feet being cut by sharp stones. 

"You really think Kukulkan will allow our disappearance to go uninvestigated, unrevenged?" Mahoute asked. 

"Oh I shouldn't worry about Kukulkan. He and his bastard son will be dead by now, killed by one of your Toltec's own men." Yax turned to look at Heumac. "I have to say, Guardian, I'm impressed at the way they were trained. I was sure that at any moment you would have heard us following you, but then maybe your talents have been exaggerated? You never noticed us at all, did you?" 

Heumac chose not to give Yax the satisfaction of answering that. Instead he said, "So you plan to take over as king?" 

"Me? No, there are plenty of disgruntled nobles who would like that role. I plan on becoming the next Ah Kin Mai." 

"In your dreams, Yax!" Mahoute spat out the words with contempt. 

Heumac was pushed through the cave entrance, Mahoute followed, but he stumbled and almost fell. Straightening up on the outside, he flicked the spider he'd gathered up when he `stumbled' onto the bare back of the guard in front. The guard let out a high pitched scream as he felt the spider bite and that was all Heumac needed. With some of the guards and Yax still inside the cave and he and Mahoute plus two guards on this side, he had a chance at fighting. He charged into the guard, now struggling to remove the spider, head-butting him in the stomach. Mahoute was ready, he lifted a stone to hit the other, but he wasn't quick enough; he was felled by a blow to the back of his neck and Mahoute felt his legs drop from him. He barely retained consciousness. 

One of the guards lifted him by his hair and held his neck in an arm hold. 

"One move, Guardian, and your Guide will have his neck twisted like a chicken. Now, walk," Yax ordered. 

Heumac had no choice. Mahoute was half carried, half dragged along behind. 

Hidden by the jungle lay an abandoned temple, overgrown by a living carpet of plants. Several families of monkeys had made their home in the crumbing roof-comb above the pyramid platform. They chattered excitedly as if aware of their visitors below. 

"We found this by accident," Yax said, cheerfully, as if it was everyday you engineered a coup. "We thought this was the mountain, until we discovered the steps. Heumac, would you like to help your Guide up?" 

Heumac's hands were untied and Mahoute was unceremoniously dropped to his knees. Heumac cursed the treatment assigned to his lover. He knelt down beside him. "Are you all right?" he softly whispered. 

Mahoute nodded, then groaned. "What I would give for a nice warm bed and you beside me, and some sleep. I am so fed up with these drums in my head." He grinned ruefully. 

"No talking!" One of the guards hit Heumac on the back with his knife-helm. Heumac snapped around and the guard almost jumped back. 

With a measure of satisfaction, Heumac turned back to his lover. "Come on, Priest. Let's do what these nice gentlemen want us to do." Heumac lifted Mahoute's still tied arms and put them over his neck. Mahoute let out a moan as he was helped up. 

The journey up the steep stairs carrying Mahoute was tiring for Heumac. He still felt weakened from being pulled from the spirit world so suddenly. His feet bled from cuts and tears. All the same, he wasn't willing to let go of his precious burden. The guards took hold of Heumac's arms and physically removed Mahoute from him. Mahoute had been holding on to his lover, drawing comfort from the bond that ran between them. It was new and fragile and needed nurturing, but there would be little time for that now. 

Mahoute was forced once more to his knees in front of Yax, who took hold of his hair and forced his head back so Yax could see his face. 

"I watched you, you know, with your Guardian. People talked about what you and he were doing when you cried out in the night. At first I thought to defend you, but then I realized you enjoy what was being done to you. You disgust me. You've had other men, haven't you, Mahoute, before Izlum was destroyed? You took lovers of both sexes, even though, for most of us, it is a crime, and your blind old fool of a mentor, he encouraged you, didn't he? Told you it was all right for a priest to take male lovers. Or maybe he liked men too? Did you give your body to him too?" 

Heumac spoke up for Mahoute's friend. "Leave the dead out of this, Yax. He was a fine priest and scholar." 

"He was a fool! Because of him and these idiots who sacrifice butterflies, the gods have turned their backs to us. They need their precious k'ulwl, the divine blood. I would have given mine freely, but it is not enough. However, you two... yes, the blood of a Guardian and his Guide...." 

He looked down at Mahoute, then he pulled hard on Mahoute's hair, baring his neck. Mahoute gasped. Heumac struggled against his captors who just held on tighter. 

"Why men, Mahoute? Women are so much softer than men... more easily subdued. Or maybe that's what you like? Do you like to be submissive and dominated? Do you like it rough, Mahoute?" Yax paused. "You know, I like having you down on your knees like that. It stirs something in me. Do you enjoy being used? Would you suck my cock, Mahoute?" He pulled Mahoute's head closer. Mahoute gritted his teeth. "What, not even to save your life? Or the life of your Guardian?" 

Heumac gave their captor a defiant stare. "You plan to kill us anyway, Yax. Why would we give you any pleasure?" His voice was sheer ice. 

Yax glared at Heumac. "You forget, Toltec, you cheated death once due to your lover's intervention. That will not happen again. I can make your sacrifice pure torture or a quick death. And which would you prefer for your Guide?" 

Mahoute's head was level with the priest's groin, one of the henchmen holding his head in place. 

Yax looked down to his captive, considering. "Maybe I should find out what it feels like to ram my cock up your ass, see just how rough you do like it. Your blood would, no doubt, ease the way, but not too much; I'm sure I would like a tight hole...." 

Mahoute's eyes were watering in pain, but he steadfastly refused to cry out or to answer the man's words. 

Suddenly he was released and pushed. 

"You are not worth the desecration of my body," Yax declared. 

He fell forward to land in a heap. With his hands tied, he had no way to stop his fall and his face caught the side of the step. 

Heumac smelled blood and the jaguar roared. A monkey leapt from the roof-comb of the temple, squawking loudly as it did, and landed right on the neck and shoulders of one of Heumac's captors. It wrapped its arms around that thick neck and bit the guard's ear, hard. The guard yelled, let go of Heumac... and the jaguar was released. 

Mahoute looked up, dazed, into the sky. He felt dizzy, disconnected from his body. Two black dots were quickly descending from the wide blue heavens. Mahoute strained to see what they were, wiping blood from his eyes. A bright red macaw and a quetzal bird were flying together straight towards him. At the last minute the quetzal pulled back, and the macaw flew over Mahoute's head to strike at Yax's eyes. 

* * *

Heumac stood up. He was covered in blood and dirt and was panting heavily. Siyah stood beside him in much the same way, but he had a satisfied smile on his face. 

Yax's body lay broken across the altar stone, his head at an odd angle where Heumac had snapped his neck. His men were lying around him -- bloody with wounds -- their own weapons used against them. 

"Are they dead?" Chitam asked as he mounted the steps. 

Heumac nodded. "Yes, very. I think..." he suddenly noticed Mahoute hadn't moved. "Mahoute!" He dropped to his knees beside his lover and gently examined Mahoute's head. 

To his relief, Mahoute groaned. "What happened?" Dazed eyes looked up at Heumac. 

"We beat them, that's what happened," Siyah grinned, widely. 

"How did you know to come for us?" Mahoute asked. 

"Thank our spirit guides," Chitam replied. "They gave us no peace until we found you." 

Mahoute frowned in concentration. "I saw... a monkey?" 

Chitam smiled broadly. "I have a monkey as my spirit guide." One of the temple monkeys chose that moment to jump down and wrap its tail around Chitam's neck. The Ek' Balam Guide's smile turned rueful. "I seem to have an affinity with the creatures." 

"And a macaw?" Mahoute asked. 

"He's mine." Siyah answered, looking at Mahoute with something akin to admiration. "No one, except Chitam and me, has ever seen him." 

"What about the quetzal bird?" At his question Mahoute noticed Heumac go very still. 

"He," Heumac cleared his throat. He couldn't look in Mahoute's eyes. "He belonged to a friend of mine." 

Chitam whistled. "He must have been one holy man to have such a sacred bird as his spirit guide. What happened to him?" 

"My father put him to death. His friends took the body, I don't know where to." 

"Heumac" Mahoute put a hand on his arm. "I saw him. The bird, it changed, became a man. I can take you to where he's buried, if you want." 

Heumac stroked the hair back from Mahoute's face. "I would like that, but now, now we have to face what Yax has done in the name of his gods in Tulum." 

"Yes, we ought to get moving." Mahoute started to get up and swayed, sitting back down quickly. 

"Mahoute..." Heumac said, half in admiration at his friend's determination, half in exasperation. 

"I'm fine, Heumac. It's just a head wound, and you know how they bleed. Besides, aren't you always telling me what a hard head I have?" 

Heumac straightened and put his hand under Mahoute's elbow to help him up, steadying him. "Yes, well, from the stories I heard about your ex-lovers, you needed a hard head to cope with their husbands!" 

Mahoute touched the cut on his head turning up his mouth at the blood that was slowly clotting. "The fables of my youthful adventures have been greatly inflated." 

"If they weren't, you would have the body of an old man by now!" 

"You mean I don't?" Mahoute struggled to his feet, everything aching. 

* * *

They joined up with Siyah's servants, who were in hiding in the jungle, and Mahoute and Heumac had their first real meal in days. Clothes were found for them, and sandals, and their wounds tended to. Once fortified, they began what should have been a journey of celebration back to Tulum. 

Both men dreaded what they'd find once they reached the city. Kukulkan was a good friend as well as the king. With him murdered, neither Mahoute nor Heumac would be welcome in the city. 

Mahoute tried to keep his thoughts positive, but he couldn't help but also wonder what had become of his mother. She had grown fond of Kukulkan and his son. Mahoute wondered if the king had ever asked Chimalma to become his queen. She hadn't said anything and so far there had been no sign of that happening. Privately, Mahoute thought his mother too independent to give up her role as priestess and become the spouse of the king, but then you never could tell. 

If Kukulkan were dead, Mahoute didn't think Chimalma would readily accept a new king, a usurper to the throne, but would she put her own life in danger and defy a new ruler? She could be very headstrong.... 

Heumac noticed how quiet his Guide was and kept close to him, offering comfort as best he could. 

Siyah also noticed. "You know, being both a Guardian and a merchant is very useful. My city prospers because of Chitam and me. If you and Mahoute were to join us, we could cover twice the area." He glanced at Heumac to gage his reaction. "The priests of Ek' Balam still offer blood to the gods, but you wouldn't be there for much of the year and..." His voice trailed off as he realized he was probably babbling. 

Heumac smiled, knowing Siyah was trying to help the only way he could. "Thank you," he said, squeezing Siyah's shoulder. The truth was he was trying not to think about what they would do if their city no longer welcomed them. One thing was sure; he would revenge Kukulkan's death, come the nine hells or thirteen heavens. 

* * *

As they drew near to the city, they left the servants behind and moved up to the edge of the forest where the two Guardians could see beyond the farms to the edge of the cleared land. 

"Strange," Siyah said. "I thought there'd be more movement, more sign of disturbance." 

Heumac agreed. "It's too... normal." 

"We will go in. You and Mahoute stay here." 

Chitam nodded. "It would be too risky for either of you to venture any nearer." 

"I don't like it," Heumac said, "but you're right. We'll wait until you send word, one way or another." 

Siyah called a few of his men forward as an escort and, after straightening his clothes, he and his Guide set forth. "I hope you know what we are doing," Chitam mumbled. 

"No, but I'm relying on you to pull a plan out of thin air as usual." 

"Why me? You are always telling me that you are the brains behind our partnership." 

"You have the odd good idea." 

"Thanks a lot!" 

"You're welcome." 

Heumac smiled as he listened to the two men squabbling as they walked into possible danger, knowing that it was just nerves that cased the bickering. They were good friends. Yes, as merchants, they needed to know what problems any new ruler would pose, but to just walk into the city took guts. 

He sat back against a tree. "Nothing we can do now except wait." He paused to look at Mahoute. "How are you feeling?" 

"Right now? Worried to death on the one hand, but on another level, strangely content." Mahoute shifted until he could lie between Heumac's legs, using his lover as a pillow, resting his head against Heumac's chest. 

"I know what you mean. This bond thing..." Heumac waved his hands to encompass the pair of them, "...For the first time in my life, I don't feel alone." Afraid he'd revealed too much he added, "I mean..." 

Mahoute tapped Heumac's hand. "I know what you mean. Before, I knew you had my back, now I know you do." 

Heumac chuckled, relieved. "Yes, that's it, really. You know, when this is all over, I should like to take you somewhere where there is no need for you to rush around healing, dealing with the dead, comforting the living; somewhere where you can recover, put a bit of weight on." 

Mahoute wriggled. "Sounds ideal. And what will you be doing while I'm growing fat and contented?" 

"Watching you, feeding you, making you scream my name as you come." 

"That would work for me, as long as I can reciprocate?" 

"Yes, I think that would be good." 

Mahoute tilted his head right back and Heumac leaned down so they could kiss. "As soon as we have somewhere safe and soft..." 

"Sounds like a good plan, Guardian mine." 

The two men rested, content just to be with each other, knowing they could do nothing, until Heumac tensed up. "Something's happening in the city." 

Mahoute felt a lump rise in his throat. Would they have to retreat into the jungle? Would they be forced to live as Heumac's men had? He knelt up and put his hand on Heumac's arm. 

Heumac focused. 

"What's happening?" 

"A litter's being brought out." 

"Can you see who's being carried in it?" 

"No...wait. Yes," Heumac smiled. "It's Kukulkan, and your mother is with him." 

Mahoute sat up. "Are they, is she all right?" 

"Shh, the king is saying something." 

"Heumac, all is well. The rebels have been defeated. You and Mahoute can come home. And I hope you have a good reason for nearly getting yourselves killed again. This is getting too stressful for an old man." Heumac repeated Kukulkan's words for Mahoute. 

His Guide was grinning. "So it's safe? We can go home?" 

"Yes Priest, it looks like you will get to sleep in that soft bed tonight." 

"Thank all the gods!" 

As the weary men climbed up to Tulum, the king and Mahoute's mother returned to the litter and were carried back into the city. Mahoute and Heumac followed. People stood on either side of the main thoroughfare and cheered. They threw flowers at the Guardian and his Guide. Nearer the main temple, Siyah and Chitam joined them, broad smiles on their faces. 

The king's litter stopped in front of the temple to the sun and Kukulkan climbed up the steps. Chimalma stopped Mahoute to give her son a kiss on the cheek before he and Heumac started to ascend at a respectful distance behind the king. Mahoute wished for nothing more than to take Heumac to their house and sleep for a month, but they had to finish the ritual where they'd started it before they could even think of resting. 

At the top, Kukulkan turned to face the crowd. He raised his hands to the sky and intoned his prayer for blessings to fall on the city's Guardian and Guide. 

"O Giver of life! With songs you give color, with songs you give life on the earth; we live only in your book of music here on the earth. 

"Here stand two who have walked through the darkness and emerged again by your blessing. They have walked the path of the spirits and stand together, one soul in two bodies. Molder, maker, to all things you have given life: watch over them; keep them living prosperously, fortunately, in safety and peace. We thank you, Tonatinh, for returning them to us. Great are you, o singer of life." 

A loud cheer went up as Mahoute and Heumac climbed up to be embraced by the king. 

* * *

They sat in front of the king and his nobles in the palace, answering questions about their adventures, Siyah and Chitam adding their own contributions. 

"Forgive me, Divine Lord, but Nun Yax told us you would be dead. Now, don't get me wrong, as glad as we are to see you, how are you alive?" Heumac asked. 

Mahoute glared at his lover in irritation, but Heumac just shrugged. 

"Ah, that." Kukulkan rubbed his chin. "The assassin Yax sent was one of your lost men, Heumac. I guess you know that?" 

Heumac nodded, shame-faced. 

"I don't blame you, my friend. He choose the wrong path and paid for it. As it happened, it was your other men in the Kanul who saved me. They saw someone lurking in the shadows and got to me and my son in time. We hid in the dark corner of my room while they covered my pillow with a blanket on the bed. When the assassin went to stab the mound on the bed, my Kanul were ready and able to disarm him. I thank you for your training there." The king smiled grimly. "I didn't want him dead straight away, not before he told me who his co-conspirators were. Lord Moch Xok and his son were arrested, tried and executed the next day. Theirs and the assassin's bodies were thrown over the cliff in to the sea." 

Mahoute knew Moch Xok by name. He was one of the nobles who had, with his pregnant wife, son and daughter, tried to find another city to take them in. However, he was forced to return when his lady wife miscarried. That day he lost both her and his unborn child. He also lost his young daughter to the first fever. She was one of the children buried near the entrance to the city. 

His son, Mahucatah, was, despite his youth, a troublemaker Mahoute knew well. He had been brought to the priest for discipline several times. Mahoute was sure, given the time and patience, plus the right guidance, Mahucatah would have turned his life around, but it seemed his father didn't give him that time. 

* * *

The feasting and celebrations for Guardian and Guide went on well into the night and it was a while before Heumac and Mahoute could escape and go to their home. 

Mahoute crawled onto their bed, stroking the covers as he did. "Nice bed, sweet bed. I love this bed. This is the best bed ever." 

Heumac laughed as he watched. "So my place has been usurped by some soft blankets and stuffing?" 

Mahoute looked at him with narrowed eyes and scoffed. "It is a very comfortable mattress, but I need something to keep me warm at night... something firm and hard to curl up against. Are you just going to stand there, or are you joining me on this soft, big, wonderful bed?" 

"Oh, I'm joining you." Huemac started to strip off his clothes. 

"Erm, one thing; I hope you aren't going to suggest sex just yet, because, as tempting as your body is, I don't think even Ixchel, the goddess of love, could get this up tonight." Mahoute waved his hand at his flaccid cock. 

"You don't have to worry, Priest, believe me, I feel exactly the same." Heumac crawled into bed along side his lover. "But tomorrow...." 

"Yeah," Mahoute yawned. "Tomorrow..." He was asleep before he finished whatever he intended to say. 

* * *

Mahoute awoke to the sun streaming in through the window. He could hear voices coming from the back of the house and finally curiosity won over comfort. He got up to take a look. Heumac was in their private courtyard being scolded by Malinche, their old slave. She was pouring buckets of water over the naked, seated man and telling him off for getting so many new scars and bruises. Heumac was taking her words in good part, calling her `Old Mother'. 

Mahoute's heart swelled with love for this man. Then Heumac stood up in all his sun-lit glory, the water making his skin glow and glisten, and something other than Mahoute's heart swelled. 

Heumac leaned into Malinche and said, in a loud whisper. "Old Mother, our sleeping prince is awake. I think you need to heat up some more water for his bath." 

"Huh! I hope he doesn't expect to be fed while I'm doing that. I only have one pair of hands, you know!" But she was smiling as she walked into the kitchen area of the house. 

Heumac came into the main rooms, toweling off his hair, totally unconcerned about his nudity. Mahoute found his mouth go dry at the arousing sight. 

Heumac grinned, knowing full well what effect his naked body was having on Mahoute. "First, Priest, you need a wash. Then we eat, and then we'll take care of your other `need'." He pointedly looked at where Mahoute's huipil was tenting visably. 

Mahoute cleared his throat and stepped forward. He traced the water trails on Heumac's body with a finger. "The bed was empty. I missed you." 

Heumac gently tapped Mahoute's forehead. "Never far, remember?" He quoted Mahoute's words back at him, then bent to kiss his lover tenderly, his hand going to Mahoute's hair, holding him close. 

"I woke when Siyah and Chitam left to check on their men," Heumac said, once they broke for air. "They were concerned that their servants might have got into some drunken trouble last night during the celebrations." 

Mahoute wasn't really listening. He was reveling in the feel of Heumac's clean skin. "I should go wash, shouldn't I?" he said as he took a deep breath of Heumac's fresh smell. 

"Yes, you really should." 

Mahoute looked up to see the twinkle in Heumac's eyes. "Just make sure you leave me some of Malinche's atole." He grabbed Heumac's towel and high-tailed it into the yard. "Someone told me I need feeding up," he called back over his shoulder. 

* * *

The sweetened porridge was the best Mahoute had ever tasted, but what really felt good was the time to relax and enjoy it. His mind kept flashing on the image of Heumac naked in the yard and he kept on wriggling to accommodate his erection. Heumac, of course, had noticed and was giving him dark, feral looks that had Mahoute feeling flushed and even more aroused. 

The need to touch soon outweighed the need for food and Heumac found himself pinned on the bed beneath an insatiable Mahoute, hell bent on driving him wild. His lover's hands and mouth were everywhere, pinching, biting, sucking, stroking, demanding Heumac relinquish control, but Heumac wasn't ready for that. He decided that two men could play at that game and tried to take over. They fought for dominance, the bed getting the worst of the fight, until Heumac finally decided someone had to surrender and it might as well be him. He rolled over on all fours, offering himself to his Guide. 

Mahoute drew back and gazed at his lover's body. "It's been too long since I did this," he said softly. He ran his hands over Heumac's skin. 

He was barely touching Heumac, but the Guardian felt that touch as though it were a burning torch. "Too long," he agreed, breathlessly, turning his head to gaze, pleadingly at Mahotue. "Please don't make me wait any longer!" 

Mahoute smiled an evil, sulty smile. "As if I could deny you anything!" He reached for the jar they kept beside their bed and quickly prepared Heumac before coating his cock and ramming it home in one smooth thrust. Both men cried out in pleasure. Heumac trembled; his muscular arms straining to hold his body up. 

Mahoute pulled almost the whole way out and then pushed his way back in. "So tight." 

"You... sound surprised," Heumac said, shakily. 

"I always... forget how... good this feels." 

Heumac groaned as Mahoute changed the angle of his thrust. "Again! Harder!" 

Mahoute obliged. 

"Oh... Priest!" Heumac's arms gave way and he lowered his upper body, pushing his ass up and back. 

Mahoute chuckled hoarsly, but the feeling was far too good to last. His thrusts became erratic as his lover decided to play dirty and clenched his ass muscles around Mahoute's cock. 

"Ohhh... oh... oh... Heumac!" 

The sensation of Mahoute's seed filling him caused Heumac to lose the last thread of control and his world exploded in pleasure. 

He came to to feel Mahoute spooned up behind him, placing a kiss between his shoulder blades. "Sleep now, but when we awake, I want you inside me." 

"That I can do, Priest." 

Mahoute chuckled sleepily. "I love you," he whispered. 

"I love you too, so very much," Heumac replied, but Mahoute had already drifted away. 

* * *

Convincing Mahoute to wait a week or so before setting off for the grave of K'ahk'upakal was easier than Heumac had thought, a sure sign that his lover was still not fully recovered. But it couldn't be put off for long and on a bright morning, the two men set off on their return journey. Heumac carrying supplies while Mahoute carrying what he described as `other essentials'. 

K'ahk'upakal's grave was hidden away in the jungle, yet Mahoute led Heumac directly to it. The soil had long since flattened and was covered with orchids, beautiful, tiny sky-blue ones that appeared to glow in the green of the jungle. Nature had provided a marker of its own for the last resting place of the scribe and Heumac had no doubt that Mahoute had found the right place. There was a sense of... peace and calmness present that he always associated with K'ahk'upakal. 

He and Mahoute stood beside the grave for a moment. 

"He should be properly honored," Mahoute said quietly. He knelt and started to dig a hole into the soil with his knife. 

"What are you doing?" 

Mahoute pulled out a parcel from his bag to reveal the crystal skull. "It's only right that he should have something of value to be with him, something that would have some resonance with you." He looked up at Heumac. "We don't know the Guardian who carved this, and you are my Guardian, so let this skull stand sentinel for K'ahk'upakal's passage to the heavens. Let it act as his Guardian in the world beyond." 

Mahoute placed the skull at the foot of the grave and covered it with earth. Then he stood beside Heumac and said a quiet prayer. 

Heumac's hand found Mahoute's and squeezed the cold hand in his own. He felt his lover's cool fingers interlace with his and grip tight. Heumac smiled, feeling that everything would be fine. 

* * *

The journey to the cave was easier now that they didn't have to worry about time constraints and spirit walks. Heumac was able to find their path fairly easily, thanks to the trail left by Yax's men. Soon it would be hidden again by the jungle, but for now, to Guardian sight, it was clear enough. 

Once at the cave, Mahoute began to restock the herbs they'd used. Heumac kept watch, unable to feel comfortable with either the caves or his memories. Luckily it didn't take his Guide long. 

"I just have one final thing to do...." Mahoute took some more things out of his bag, ore and minerals which Heumac recognized were used for painting. Mahoute broke off a small stick and sucked the end, spitting out the sap, and then chewing the end until it fitted his purpose. Finally he took up some water and mixed it with the ore and then returned to the caves. Heumac followed. 

"What now?" 

Mahoute was busy writing on the walls. "I'm amending the instructions. It's too strong a potion for a Guardian to take alone. If his Guide is unable, for whatever reason, to complete the ritual with him, then the amended version will keep him from having a bad spirit walk. This way he would have to take twice the dose before he becomes mad with power." Mahoute smiled at Heumac to soften his words. 

Heumac still looked abashed. "I didn't mean... I wouldn't..." 

"I know you wouldn't. You are content as a Guardian. Anything else, well it wouldn't be who you are. And if you couldn't be you, the man I love -- even if you drive me crazy every now and again -- then we'd both be miserable." 

"Gods, it must be the bond. I actually understood that!" 

"Fool!" Mahoute said, affectionately. 

"Ah but I'm your fool." 

"Too right you are! So what do you say to a little fooling around?" 

Heumac looked horrified. "Here? I thought you preferred soft and warm, not hard and damp." 

Mahoute burst out laughing at his lover's unintentional pun. "I thought we both liked hard, soft is no good to either of us! And as for damp and warm...." 

Heumac groaned, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. It was good to see the color back in Mahoute's cheeks, to see him looking healthy again. "All right, my little poet. You want it hard..." 

Mahoute laughed and dodged Heumac's hands, knowing it wouldn't be long before he allowed Heumac to catch him. 

* * *

Epilogue

Mahoute sat up in bed, sweating and his heart beating wildly. It took a moment for him to work out what had disturbed him and not his sleeping lover. Then his heart jumped. At the foot of the bed was a figure, indistinct in form, but recognizable as Nasca, his face twisted in his familiar sneer. Yet the dead priest seemed more transparent than the last time Mahoute had seem his shade, though his vision was clouded by fever at the time, and through the glowing figure Mahoute could see someone else. Mahoute squinted to see better and Nasca's shade faded away to reveal Mahoute's late mentor Tupec. The old man laughed softly. "I knew you would see through my disguise, Mahoute, once you were free of the fever and able to think clearly." 

Mahoute didn't doubt what his eyes were showing him. If there were any real danger Heumac would have awoken too. The fact that his Guardian was still sleeping soundly showed that this was a spirit vision that only Mahoute was privy to. 

"Tupec... what are you doing here? Have you come to warn me of some new disaster?" 

The old priest sat on the side of the bed. He no longer seemed to need his cane and his eyes were clear, no longer clouded with blindness. "No, my son. No danger or disaster now. That has passed. I was sent before to prepare you and your people against fools and those easily lead." 

"But we didn't heed your warning. We didn't prepare." 

"People listened to you, Mahoute. Your Guardian prepared his men. The king was ready." 

"And so was Nun Yax." Mahoute mumbled, shamefaced. 

"He was just waiting for the right opportunity. You couldn't have changed that, my boy. By listening to me, you opened the way for the other Guardian and Guide to help. 

"You did the right thing, Mahoute." He stood. "I am proud of you, my young friend." He slowly faded from sight. 

"Mahoute?" Heumac was drifting awake. 

"Shhh, Guardian mine. It's all right. Just my brain waking me up." 

"Well, tell it to shut up," Heumac mumbled sleepily. 

Mahoute chuckled. "Yes, dear." 

Heumac snorted but his breathing soon evened out in sleep. Mahoute stayed awake a while longer, just in case some other spirit felt the need to drop by. He felt his eyelids grow heavy and he curled himself around Heumac and followed him into slumber. 

Across the chamber four forms shimmered into view, two men -- one, old, dressed in a priest's tunic, the other, younger, wearing slave clothes -- stood between a wolf and a jaguar. 

"They look good together," the younger of the two said, wistfully, his hand stroking the head of the cat who leaned into him. 

Tupec put his hand on K'ahk'upakal's shoulder, "They make a good team, my friend." 

K'ahk'upakal nodded solemnly. "I cared for Heumac, you know. He deserved better than what his father dished out." 

"You did a good job, K'ahk'upakal, keeping him alive as long as you did." Tupec turned back towards the sleeping Guardian and Guide. 

The wolf jumped up on the bed and made itself comfortable, the jaguar followed with a little more grace. 

Tupec sighed. "I think we will have our work cut out keeping these two out of trouble! I only hope we can keep up with them!" 

The sound of gentle laugher faded into the night as the Guardian and Guide of Tulum slept on.... 

* * *

End 

Beneath the bushes, beneath the vines by Marion: marion.sherringham@ntlworld.com  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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